


Glazed

by darklittlestories



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Flimsy plot that exists only as a framework for porn, Food Kink, Food Porn, Food Sex, Loki has a sweet tooth, M/M, No SERIOUSLY it is canon, POV Thor, Sexual Frustration, all the food tags, but really just come tasting I think, porn with a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-07-16 16:05:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darklittlestories/pseuds/darklittlestories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor does NOT get off watching Loki eat. He does NOT. How dare you even think that? Loki does NOT notice and make it so much worse. Of course not. He would never.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hermaline75](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermaline75/gifts).



> Hermaline posted an prompt for a cooking show AU at the ThorLoki Prompt Meme. This is not that but I was inspired to write some food porn. I assume from her prompt that this won't go unappreciated. I could dedicate every word I ever write to Hermaline and it would not equal half the gratitude I feel for her evocative, sublime works. You are a treasure.
> 
> This could be typically slow to update but for the first time in my AO3 history, I have written one chapter ahead.

Thor can't figure where Loki has gotten the muscles he wears, long and trim but defined and hard, over his angled bones. He eats sparingly of sugared fruits, fresh ripe fruits, sweet breads and cakes, airy confections and, to Thor's eye, little else. 

He honestly wonders if that's not a magic of it own, an alchemy turning air and golden spun sugar into taut muscle fibers.

He finds it a wonder, not a worry. Loki looks hale and, though finer and more lithe of body than other warriors, Thor knows him to be more deadly than most anyone in battle.

In training, when he deigns to attend, he will spar only with Sif or with Thor himself. Loki himself boasts that his schemes and insults have driven away all others, but Thor knows his brother is simply too powerful to be paired with any but those who know his unique fighting style and can survive his viciousness. 

Tonight they are in the Great Hall. Loki must be pleased: They are celebrating the anniversary of the alliance with Vanaheim and Loki loves the realm's cuisine. He accepts only the food prepared in deference to the foreign delegation, his plate for this course a minimalist arrangement of the strange cuts of raw fish, a candied root, and the sticky white grain common to Vanaheim. 

It's bound up in little bundles and eaten with the hands, and Loki does so, although he has complained often and loudly about Thor's and the rest of Asgard's warriors' beastly manners when pulling apart meat and stuffing it into their faces, talking merrily around filled mouths. 

Thor finds this striking, watching Loki eat. With this delicacy, Loki's long, elegant fingers are the most lovely utensils. His mouth opens, pink and satin, and his tongue just caresses the bottom of the bite sized food and then his fingers are as fastidiously clean as when he began. 

Thor realizes belatedly that he's been staring. He's always known Loki is a man of great beauty and grace. He adores watching his brother fight. Even when Thor is the opponent, he's in awe of Loki. It's like watching a violent spectacle of dance. 

And of course he has noticed his brother's striking, haughty face, the razor cheekbones and cutting emerald eyes. His brother is a unique beauty in Asgard. His skin so fair and flawless as to make a maiden weep for envy. His raven hair is regal swept back at times like this. 

Though it's even more lovely to Thor's mind when it's whipping about wild and undone during battle or still curling after the baths. 

Though he doesn't dwell overmuch on the pleasure he takes in bathing with Loki in the great bathing chamber they share, can't pretend his eyes don't roam over the taut planes of flesh and all that white, white skin. It's aesthetic appreciation, of course. What brother wouldn't take pride in a handsome sibling?

But he's transfixed in this moment by Loki's  _mouth_ , thin but so shapely and petal pink, a hue just rosier than the sliced bits of fish he's enjoying so.

In fact, Loki likes the food so much that now he closes his eyes and makes a little hum of satisfaction, one edge of his mouth turned up just so in the barest hint of a smile.

It is the most erotic thing Thor has ever seen. He shivers suddenly and Loki's eyes fix on him.

"Are you taking ill, Brother?" Loki asks. "I find it quite warm in the hall. Have you caught a chill?" 

His face is all fraternal concern, but his eyes glitter in that unmistakable way: Thor knows he is being mocked. But for what purpose? Surely Loki is merely teasing him for showing a sign of fragility amongst the warriors and nobility seated with them at the high table. 

Thor returns to his own food and has already taken an enormous and messy bite from a leg of some bird native to Vanaheim when he realizes he hasn't answered his brother. He shoots a glance at Loki, who is smirking insufferably.

He is rescued by the Lord High Chancellor of Martial Affairs (or something to that effect; the titles the Vanir bedeck themselves with baffle Thor) to his left asking for his advice in recruiting new soldiers. 

The meal passes with intense conversation and for once Thor excuses himself as soon as is seemly, when the dignitaries have gone and the warriors' toasts to one another and to the two realms have just begun to descend into raucous drinking contests and flyting. 

He's avoided looking at Loki for some time and isn't really surprised to see he's left the hall some time ago. 

Thor half expects Loki to be waiting in the corridor leading to their shared wing, to wheedle out of him the reason for Thor's odd behavior, or to offer sly insults about Thor's weak constitution at the feast.

But the wing is evidently empty and Thor flops heavily into his bed exhausted.

And then fails completely to sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

Thor stumbles bleary-eyed into the kitchens. He’d eventually fallen into the fitful sleep that comes in the wan light just before dawn and woken between the morning and midday meals. He pushes open the swinging door with his hip as he scrubs his face roughly with both hands. Then he stops short, catching sight of another apparent thief in the larder—Loki freezes with his hand halfway between a small mountain of plums and his open mouth.

He forgets to close it for a moment, and then he bites messily into the plum. A thin rivulet of juice drips down his chin, and he swipes a perfect finger over the spill, and sucks off the juice.

Thor stares and does not breathe.

“What, Thor?” Loki asks, with an air of boredom. “I was hungry.”

“I can see that, Brother.”

Loki quirks up one side of his mouth and gathers his hoard of plums, popping the half-eaten one into his mouth and slipping between Thor and the doorway. It’s a close enough brush that Thor can smell Loki, the ripe plums bright and sweet against the faint blend of musk and amber that is Loki’s own scent. He can see those lips wet and still smiling around the flesh of the plum even after Loki has gone.

Thor swallows thickly and wanders back to his rooms, collapsing again onto his bed.

An hour later he notices that he’s still hungry, having forgotten completely to take any food from the kitchens. He groans, rolls over, and pulls a pillow over his face. Then he turns again, onto his back. The erection digging into the mattress had been tempting, mortifying, and confusing in equal measure.

He lies and waits. And waits. He thinks of the long, tedious talks with the Vanir nobility and of reciting the lines of Asgard’s laws to his tutors as a youth. He counts backward by sevens from three hundred. He tries to recite the countries of Midgard but can’t remember even twenty of them, there are so many.

His cock remains undeterred. It always does. He hadn’t actually expected boredom to cool his ( _its_ , it was easier just now to think of the damn thing as a separate entity) ardor.

He heads for the baths, intending to stand under an icy tap as long as he can stand. Until his balls shrivel and retreat into his body, preferably. Perhaps until his cock falls off.

He walks into Loki standing naked and twirling slowly under a steaming flow of hot water, hair sleek, body shining but half-obscured by mist. He waves merrily at Thor.

“I was just sticky all over, Brother,” Loki says.

Thor pivots on the spot, leaves the room immediately, crosses his chamber, and bangs his head against the wall a few dozen times.

Then, hiding himself and his difficult-to-disguise manhood under several blankets, he calls for a servant. He tells the young lady he is unwell and sends her to the healing rooms for a sleeping draught. She returns quickly, delivers a goblet half-full of potion, and feeds the fire in Thor's large hearth, before curtsying and leaving him.

Thor downs the drink in one pull, sighs in relief, and adjusts his cock inside his smallclothes, touching it as if it might bite. 

 

* * *

  
_Loki sits astride his brother’s lap, and Thor feeds him from a plate beside the bed. Loki takes a strawberry, an obscenely deep red, and licks frothy sweet cream from Thor’s fingers. He hums around one and grinds down into Thor’s lap. Thor bites the next berry in half, swallows with a greedy sound of his own, and then Loki pouts prettily and Thor pushes the other half onto Loki’s tongue from his own. Their tongues slide together, all sweetness and heat, and Loki sucks gently on Thor’s lower lip before pulling away to offer his neck. They are naked now in the hazy chronology of dreams, and Thor fastens his mouth onto Loki’s neck. He kisses and sucks with abandon._

_When Thor lets go with a wet smack, he admires the bruise there, as deep as Loki’s berry-stained lips, and they push and writhe against each other. Loki spills first, gasping and wriggling. When he scoops up his spend from Thor’s belly and licks it from his own fingers,_

Thor wakes, quaking and shuddering.

He lies flat, gulping for air, and staring blurry-eyed at the ceiling until the golden glow of his orgasm lulls him back to sleep. When he wakes again, he winces and peels away the sheet stuck to his sensitive skin and the two bottom blankets that are still soaked through.

He growls and throws the bedding directly into the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intend for this to be funny, really, but I can't stop giggling at poor Thor and his damned treacherous thunderprick.


	3. Chapter 3

The Vanir are departing this eve and there is, of course, another feast. Thor is quite torn. He's ravenous, having skipped all meals in the Great Hall since the envoys' last celebratory feast.

The planks brought to his rooms had carried enough cold meats, bread, cheeses, and fruits to fill his famous appetite, but he had only picked distractedly at the meat and cheese.

He had passed a quarter of an hour angrily tossing the fruit piece by piece into the fire until the smell of the sizzling, roasting pears and bursting pomegranates began to rouse an entirely different hunger.

He chews angrily on a piece of bread, warm from the ovens when it had been served but now cold.

The bell tower chimes the hour and he starts—he's been losing so much time lately.

He has to rush to bathe and dress. His brother is absent from the chamber and Thor's stomach knots up at this. He's unsure whether he is disappointed or relieved. He tries to think that he shouldn't feel anything at all about such a mundane fact, but can't muster up any such belief.

The dream had simply unsettled his mind, of course, and justly so. But one cannot control one's dreams and so he sets his jaw and clasps the last of his ceremonial armor.

Thor cannot wait for the visitors to be gone; his place at the table is normally to Odin's right, with his brother at the queen's left.

Now, he is again seated directly opposite Loki. If the platters had been piled much higher with food he wouldn't be able to see the bottom half of Loki's face.

But he can.

Happily, Loki is ignoring Thor and chatting with the Vanir crown prince. 

Thor's stomach has at last asserted its need and he's all but shoveling food into his mouth. His manners are just this side of acceptable for a formal meal. 

He hears a pointed but polite cough to his left—the look on the face of the third prince of Vanaheim tells him he has been trying to get Thor's attention for some time.

The young man smiles, though. "We have a saying in my realm, Your Highness. 'Never interrupt an Asgardian's meal or mead.' Do forgive me. Only, I am curious. What is this meat here?" 

Thor smiles and swallows. "Ah, excuse my manners, Prince Tiko. I have been ill and haven't eaten well of late. I am certain your motto has saved many a Vanir from losing a hand to a starving Asgardian warrior," he laughs.

"It is boar," Thor continues, "roasted over a fire in a brick oven that holds in the smoke. I find it quite delicious, myself."

And evidently so, as he has eaten nearly an entire animal on his own.

Over Tiko's shoulder, a buxom serving girl leans in to serve him a generous portion of the smoked boar.

The young prince blinks at Thor, who has ignored the shapely breasts before him and is gazing rather distractedly at either his own brother or Tiko's elder brother. Perhaps the tales of Thor's love of women have been exaggerated.

He has heard of Thor's taking a swooning serving girl right off her feet and groping her at this very table.

Well, he has been unwell; he had said himself. Or perhaps he is on good behavior for the realm's visitors.

* * *

Loki's conversation has petered out, and his partner has engaged with Odin and Tyr. 

At the same moment, the platters are removed from the table and the sweets course is brought to the table: long boards heavy with cakes and breads, chargers of warm puddings and delicately wrought silver platters with glazed fruits.

Loki flashes a quick look at Thor, and it's the wolf's smile Thor usually sees on the battlefield. 

In an instant Loki turns away, whispers something in the ear of the visiting prince, then pulls toward himself a dish of sliced peaches swimming in a honeyed sauce.

Thor's belly flutters.

When one of the preternaturally helpful servants offers Loki a bowl filled with thickly whipped sweet cream, Thor wants to throttle the boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no intention whatsoever of dragging this out. It was meant to be a one-shot. These boys just do what they want with me, I suppose.
> 
> I have family in and will likely not post again until Monday. This chapter's poorly edited. (Read: not even a little bit edited.) Please point out errors, now and always. I usually check back and fix them but I miss many, I'm sure.
> 
> Have a wonderful weekend!


	4. Chapter 4

Thor swallows hard, and tries to ignore the blush creeping from his ears and collar to his face. He takes a large gulp of mead, hoping a bit desperately that he'll be seen drinking and that will explain away the heat written on his face.

Loki's eyes are fixed on his sweets as he heaps the dripping peaches onto his plate. He takes, of course, the lion's share. He spoons on a generous dollop of the whipped cream and then makes a fussy show of having lost his own utensils. He beckons over the servant and asks for another spoon.

Then he winks at Thor.

Thor's mouth goes slack with surprise for a moment before he buries it again in his drinking horn.

"Well, Thor," Loki says conspiratorially, "I believe for once I shall take the lead of my big brother. Decorum be damned—I simply cannot wait to sample this delectation."

He picks up a slice of glazed peach, and lets the honeyed sauce run off onto his plate and pops it into his mouth.

"Mmmm."  He swallows and grinning like a satisfied cat, grabs another.

Where is that accursed servant?

Loki hums happily again, and then swipes his finger through the  cream and licks it off in the most obscene manner. He is all tongue, stroking showily and looking as if he's never tasted sweetened cream or peaches before.

Thor gapes, astonished at Loki's performance and insistently, achingly hard in his breeches. Quick looks about them assures him no one is paying attention to either of them. He adjusts his cock as subtly as possible.

And Loki moans.

It's quiet enough, and his mouth is filled with food again, but to Thor's ears, it is the most blatant tease.

Loki's eyes fall half lidded, and he smiles dreamily as he gives that soft moan in his sinful voice. 

Then he meets Thor's eyes directly. "Oh, Thor," he says, low and velvety. "Mmm, you must try this, Brother." 

Thor's cock twitches helplessly. 

Loki pushes his own dish toward Thor. 

"I—" Thor gulped. "I—thank you."

Loki's eyes gleam like spinning knives.

Thor, whose own spoon had not mysteriously disappeared, takes a bite of the dessert. It really is very, very good. The syrupy peaches are nearly too rich but the delicately sweetened cream balances it perfectly.

It is a simple but wonderful dish, maybe enough to inspire the sort of theatrical sounds of pleasure Loki has made, but Thor has no illusions—Loki is playing him.

And too, too well.

Scowling into his horn, Thor proceeds to drink until Loki finally leaves and Thor's cock, mind, and bones are quite useless.

Volatagg is summoned and half-drags, half-carries the drunken prince to his chambers. 


	5. Chapter 5

Thor dreams of a hammer. 

Not his Mjölnir, but a large and heavy one nonetheless and it is striking his skull in a hard, agonizing rhythm.

Eventually, he wakes to a searing pain in his head and the insistent knocking that had transformed in his dream to the hammering.

"Thor!" Loki shouts, and Thor winces from the sound. 

He stuffs a pillow over his face and yells, "Not now, Brother! I'm unwell."

A quiet snicker. "I'm well aware of that, Brother Mine. Let me in. I've brought you a remedy."

Thor is deeply, resolutely determined not to move. "Just magic it open, Loki," he begs. Speaking is excruciating.

He hears a spell spoken almost too quietly to be audible through the door and then the soft metal click of the latch and doorknob.

Thor grunts as he shifts in bed and pulls his heavy, clumsy limbs to a sitting position. Loki bears a carved goblet of some sort of pale stone. He takes a seat on the bed with Thor, and holds the goblet against his cracked lips, cupping the back of Thor's head firmly but gently. The fluid smells faintly of mint and cucumber, which Thor's belly finds surprisingly agreeable.

Loki, impatient with his hesitant sniffing, tells him, "Just drink," and tips the potion into Thor's mouth. 

The potion is cool and fresh on his tongue, and he drains the goblet gratefully. Loki's fingers are cool, too, soothing on the warm skin of Thor's neck. He lingers there just a beat too long for the touch to be unintentional. Loki cocks his head in that bird-like manner of his, studying Thor's face. The magic is meandering its way through Thor's body, reaching from his core to his limbs and leaving him relaxed but wakeful—if not yet vibrant. He gives Loki a thankful smile.

Loki smirks at him and Thor can _feel_ that Loki's been itching to flash that cutting half-smile.

"Feeling better now, Brother?" Loki asks, all warmth and concern now. "Whatever drove you to such catastrophic overindulgence?"

Thor glares at Loki and mutters a few words about sending off the realm's visitors with all due revelry.

Loki refrains from comment but his eyes still shine with mockery. Thor meets and holds his brother's gaze only through a colossal force of will. The longer their eyes remain locked, the farther Loki's lips stretch from a tiny smirk toward a full wolf's grin. The air between them seems thick and charged to Thor, and he wonders if it's only him feeling it. Loki obviously knows that something between them is different—damn it all, Thor knows that Loki is well aware of the exact nature of the tension. He could keep lying to himself but it's just not in his nature to do so.

What he's really wondering is if this inappropriate attraction is mutual. At worst, Loki seems merely amused by Thor's predicament. At best? Well, that thought makes Thor's pulse race.

Loki sees something in his face at this and his mouth finally tears open into its widest and brightest threatening smile. He leans forward an inch and Thor would swear his heart stops beating altogether. 

And then Thor's belly makes a rumbling growl. Loki gives him a reproachful look, as if Thor had purposefully broken the spell of the moment. Thor can't help scowling at Loki although he knows he must look petulant and childish. 

"Thor, it seems your appetite is returned to us! Shall I warn the cooks and all the livestock in the realm?"

Thor ignores the goading. "What time is it, Loki?"

"Ah. Wrong question, Brother," Loki answers. "Better to ask what day." 

"What day? How long did I sleep?" Thor scrubs his hands over his beard, finding it more unkempt than it should after one night of rest.

"Three days. Do not fret, Thor. You slept for a fortnight after the battle for Ria. Go wash up and I'll find something with which you can break your fast."

Thor goes willingly. After a long and exceptionally satisfying piss (three days he hasn't passed water; it's a release worthy of enjoyment) he steps under the streaming water and sluices the sweat and sleep from his body. His mind refuses to come to heel, although washing up usually focuses and invigorates him. There is a spare hint of a magic still affecting his senses, but he's awake enough now to realize he is ravenous. Surely a hearty meal is called for. 

If he's as fluent at reading Loki's expressions as Thor thinks he is, he will need a great deal of sustenance to endure the remainder of the day. He can't suss out Loki's motives right now, but he is certain his canny brother will not let Thor's strange desires go unaddressed.

Whether Thor is bound for a reward or a punishment is unclear. What either of those would entail is equally unclear. 

Thor frowns to himself as he towels off and pulls on fresh clothing. He leaves off his armor; Loki had seemed intent on staying within Thor's chamber for the time being. 

He walks into his suite which is empty, quiet, and too tidy: Loki had made the bed. Thor feels a small pang of loss. There had been such appeal in having Loki in his rumpled bed. He tries to school his mind into accepting whatever Loki offers; either gloating and insults or... No. Thor can't quite name it, even silently to himself. This wanting is too confusing, too complex and weighty a thing.

It is no undertaking for an empty stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I thought this story would update regularly? That was pretty hilarious, wasn't it? I finally have the daughter off on an outing and the husband doing epic heroics with (hopefully not against) the River Gods, so I'm sneaking in some writing. As ever, this is un-beta'd and only edited by the writer so if there are any errors, please point me in their direction.


	6. Chapter 6

Loki returns not long after Thor has finished with his bathing. He is empty-handed.

Thor frowns. His stomach protests loudly.

Loki just grins merrily and sits with Thor on the settee. With a flourish, he performs an elegant gesture which produces a glimmering silver knife in one hand and a golden apple in the other. The apple's scent is crisp and bright in the air, so potent it can only be one of Iðunn's. Loki shouldn't have access to one this far from the harvest feast but... he is Loki.

Thor's mouth is watering in memory of the taste of the enchanted fruit, and he reaches toward Loki's right hand to take the golden apple.

Loki barks out a clipped, stern "No," and warns him away with the flat of the blade in his left hand. Then he softens, and coos, "You must allow me, Dear Brother. You've been in such a state these past days. So unwell. You must let me care of you."

He flips the knife between his fingers and slices a thin piece from the apple, then spears it on the knife's point. Thor's belly thunders. 

But fast as a striking snake, Loki takes the apple between his own teeth and then laps up the juice running down the blade. Thor makes a low, helpless noise of protest and desire. 

"I know, Brother," Loki murmurs. "I know how very hungry you are." His voice is pitched low and seductive, his words deliberate. Every syllable makes Thor's cock throb, so that he can't decide which appetite is more in need.

Loki cuts another delicate slice of apple and this time takes it between his fingers and offers it to Thor. He stops short, so that Thor has to lean toward him and take it. He snatches it in his mouth and hums happily around the bursting flavor. He chews in perfect contentment until Loki pops his sticky fingers into his own mouth and then Thor tries to swallow and chokes. Loki's mouth twitches as he tries to hold in laughter. His body rocks with it, but he holds his peace for the most part until Thor has recovered. 

The morsel warms him, like a sip of strong drink, but he is still ravenous. He coughs once more then asks Loki for another. "Please," he adds, and if his voice is deeper and rougher than usual it could be the coughing and sputtering. Or it could be something else entirely. Thor doesn't much care any longer. He just _wants_. 

Loki slices off another bite and feeds it to him, and keeps methodically peeling away tiny nibbles and slowly Thor's belly is filled. Loki doesn't give him time to speak, he just portions the apple and gives Thor another bite after each mouthful.

Loki's eyes flit to the bobbing of his throat each time he swallows. Thor is less careful with each bite, and with the edge off both his hunger and his confusion, he begins to eat purposefully. Every time he lets Loki feel his teeth or tongue, he can hear the hitch in Loki's breath. 

The sound of it goes straight to his cock. He needs more of it, and he needs to find out what other lovely sounds he can elicit. 

When Loki feeds him the next bite, Thor catches his hand and licks Loki's fingers. He holds steady eye contact with quickly darkening green eyes while he swipes his tongue over the long, beautifully-formed fingers. He loves Loki's hands, and now he knows that he loves the way the taste of apples mixes with the faint salt of his brother's skin. And he knows that Loki likes teeth. His eyelids drop at this and he sucks Loki's fingers fully into his mouth, grunting with pleasure.

Loki makes a high, breathy moan at this, and Thor opens his eyes in time to see the genuine shock of arousal play over Loki's face before he steadies his features and gives Thor a wicked smirk.

And Thor breaks. He's not meant for teasing and games such as these. His hands are heavy and firm on his brother's body before he can think.

He lifts Loki by the hips and pulls him onto his lap, taking a fistful of silken black hair and tugging. 

Loki doesn't fight. He pants out harsh breaths as his neck is exposed and then Thor starts to devour him. 

He licks a long trail from Loki's clavicle to his throat, where he can feel his heart beating against the flat of his tongue. He kisses that gorgeous neck all over, the taste of Loki flooding his mouth.

He scrapes his teeth on the reddening skin over Loki's pulse point and Loki whines. The sound vibrates against Thor's mouth and he pulls away to meet Loki's eyes.

He's wearing something like awe on his face and his lips are parted on heaving breaths.

Thor moves in to him, mouth open, and they both try to control the kiss. Thor's upper lip is bitten, pinched between their clashing teeth. But he doesn't care because he's tasting the tartness of apples on Loki's tongue and Loki's hand has curled around the nape of his neck, keeping him still as he licks and nips and sucks at Thor's mouth. 

They kiss until Thor is dizzy and they pull apart just enough to breathe, fighting for the same oxygen and gulping in air. But neither is willing to move farther apart. Their lips brush together whisper light and Loki's are soft, so soft and warm and perfect and Thor loves this, is drunk on this.

Loki rests his forehead against Thor's and his breaths are fast and heated. He's obviously as affected by the kiss and the closeness as Thor. It feels like the most intimate show of surrender after days of toying with Thor.

Or perhaps it's a victory. It doesn't matter—it's delicious and wonderful and Thor needs more.

"Bed," he growls, and Loki's answer is a frantic, desperate hiss.

 " _Yes_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For fuck's sake... I feel like I've written a novella-length kiss. I'm a maniac who must be stopped. I apologize if I've given you terrible blue balls; I'm right there with you. I just couldn't edit this down any farther. I needed the build up to be almost torturously slow but I really, really thought we'd get this awful teasing carried through to full-on sex in this chapter. Then the chapter was going to be much, much longer than the rest and the rhythm would be all wonky and... Blargh!!! 
> 
> Blame Loki. Again. The fucking knife and the apple just took over.


	7. Chapter 7

Thor stands up and takes Loki with him, one arm straining beneath Loki's ass and one hand pressed hard at his shoulders, pinning Loki against him. 

The kisses still don't stop, and Loki's tongue and lips are incredible, nuzzling and licking at Thor's throat and then tracing the shell of his ear. Thor grunts with both the pleasure Loki is coaxing from him and from physical effort—His brother is not as light as he looks and Thor's patience has long since fled. He throws Loki down on his bed and as he straightens, he yanks off Loki's leggings in one harsh jerk. 

Loki pulls his tunic over his head and fists both hands into Thor's, pulling Thor on top of him.

Thor gasps at the feel of this, his clothed body trapping a nude Loki who is _writhing_ beneath him. He arches against Thor and folds his long, pale legs around his waist. Thor can feel the strength in them, and grinds against Loki, loving the heat and pressure of Loki's cock leaking between them. His own erection aches against his laces but he's far too interested in having his hands on his brother to care.

He runs his palms all over that silken flesh, savoring every twitch of muscle beneath sensitive skin, learning where his touch draws out the most pleasure. Loki's abdomen tightens hard and he makes a beautifully wanton sound when Thor skims his hands over the sides of Loki's torso. He repeats it, running his hands down each side of Loki's perfect, slender body and then gripping his waist firmly. His thumbs hook into the soft places above the crest of his pelvis and Loki whines softly. 

Thor drops his head back into the cradle of Loki's neck and shoulder, reeling and dizzy. Loki turns his head and nips lightly at Thor's ear and then whiplash-quick he flips them, and Thor's on his back before his mind registers the movement.

Loki straddles him, stunning and lovely and gloriously shameless. 

He works his hips against Thor until it becomes truly painful. 

"Loki, Brother, please," he pants. 

Loki moves off Thor's hips, as graceful as ever. He pushes Thor's legs apart and settles between them. He grips Thor's cock through the fabric, so tight and it hurts but Thor never wants him to let go. He's leaking and throbbing and just seeing Loki's fingers on him is wildly arousing. His hips are pushing up against the touch, desperate even through the vicious ache.

Loki pulls away and Thor growls softly, but then Loki is unlacing him, maddeningly slowly. He parts the clothing just enough to expose Thor's prick. The air is cool and sweet on his painful flesh and he drops his head onto the bed with a relieved sigh. Loki carefully folds Thor's breeches under his heavy balls. He coaxes Thor to the bed's edge and drops to his knees. 

Thor props his head on his folded arm; the vision of Loki naked and kneeling between Thor's legs is irresistible. It's strikingly erotic seeing Loki exposed against his own clothed body. Thor's hard cock and full balls feel almost vulgar with the rest of him still modestly covered.

But nothing—nothing ever—is as alluring as when Loki darts out his slick tongue and traces it lightly over Thor's sac. It's agonizingly little stimulation but Thor can't take his eyes off it, and his cock is leaking out thick beads of slick onto his tensed belly.

Loki opens his kiss-plump lips wide and suckles lightly on Thor's balls, his gaze intent on Thor's face as he works. Thor's own eyes are heavy and it's difficult to keep them open, but he's determined to savor every moment of this: Loki staring up at Thor, mouth filed with him, lips taut and eyes dancing.

Loki hums a sound too hungry and guttural to be feigned, and the honesty as much as the vibrations light Thor on fire. He cups the back of Loki's head with careful pressure, guiding him up toward Thor's weeping cock.

He surprises and excites Thor with his pliancy as he follows where Thor wants him. Loki doesn't stop his teasing yet, though, of course. He draws his tongue into a point and licks up the length of Thor's cock. It's a sublime vision, but Thor needs all the control at his command to keep from shoving his aching prick straight down Loki's throat. So he gives up trying to see; his vision is blurring anyway. 

With his eyes closed tight, the sensation grows ever more intense. Loki builds the pleasure steadily, flattening his tongue and pressing harder with each path up Thor's shaft, feeding the pool of slick on Thor's belly.

When Loki moves to slip his tongue through this, Thor's eyes snap open to see, and his hand flies to grip himself hard at the base of his cock. He could come from just this, watching Loki's wicked tongue play in his fluid. Loki chuckles and replaces Thor's hand with his own, and were his cock not clenched painfully in that fist, he'd have spilled just to have those silken fingers touching him.

Loki keeps him in check with a sure grip as he takes the dripping head of Thor's cock into his mouth. Thor pants out breathy little whimpers he didn't know he could produce. He arches and wriggles under Loki, who hasn't so much as closed his lips. He just allows the weight of Thor's prick to roll and pulse on his tongue. 

"Eyes on me, Brother," Loki croons, and Thor obeys, unsure when he'd let his eyelids fall shut again.

He blinks them open and when his vision clears, Loki lowers his head and sucks gently. His cheeks hollow and his pink lips pull flush around Thor's cock. Thor keens and groans and thrashes so that Loki releases his fist and pushes Thor's hips down.

But Thor is stronger and he's been on edge for days. He bucks up hard and feels the tip of his cock butt up against the back Loki's throat, but instead of pulling away, Loki swallows and moans and Thor spills into him with a shuddering rumble of relief as wave after wave crests through him, legs trembling and hips thrusting uncontrollably.

Mind fogged with sated exhaustion, he sees an exceptionally satisfied expression on Loki's face. His smirking lips are red and puffy, eyes glassy with blown pupils and unshed tears.

Thor mumbles, "Did I hurt you?"

Loki's voice is rough when he answers and that sends another impossible jolt of arousal through Thor.

  
"Oh, no, Brother. _Not yet_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't leave naked Loki unsatisfied forever, though he does seem well pleased with himself just now, doesn't he?
> 
> As always, I'd love for you to point out any errors you find:)


	8. Chapter 8

This rouses Thor fully. "Not yet?" he rasps, "Do you wish me to hurt you?"

Loki presses flush against Thor and leans in to whisper, "I mean to have it, dearest Brother. I saw how you quivered, holding in all that dormant strength." His lips and breath are heated against Thor's ear. "I felt you thrashing and fighting and _wasting_ all that glorious power when I could feel your need vibrate through me. Did you notice your hands clenching and fighting to resist gripping my skull and fucking into my mouth?" 

Loki trails his hand down Thor's chest and abdomen and curls the long fingers around the erection straining full and thick again. "You love this, Brother, don't you? The idea of harnessing your anger and lashing out at me?"

"Lashing out? Loki, why would I be cross with you?" 

Loki flashes a gleaming smile. "I made you wait."

Thor glares at his impossible brother. It's a sort of fond glare only Loki can inspire. "Perhaps now I shall return the favor?"

Loki scoffs, and his eyes have rolled only halfway upward before Thor is upon him and Loki is pressed flat against the mattress.

He laughs, mockingly, "Ooh, Brother, your teasing is such unendurable torture. You've made me wait less than ten seconds. However will I possibly withstand this seduction?"

Thor yanks a fistful of Loki's hair and cups his jaw, murmuring against Loki's neck, "I never said I meant to tease by denying you touch," He kisses along that lovely jaw and neck and then begins to work his way down.

Slowly. 

* * *

By the time Thor's kisses have reached the middle of Loki's back, his little brother's breath is a rhythm of quick bursts. His hips are circling mindlessly against the bed.

Thor grabs his hips and pulls him up away from the friction, and grins when Loki whines. With the plump mounds of his ass raised like this, resting on his elbows, and hair a messy fall around his face, Loki is the most appealingly filthy sight on which Thor has ever lain eyes. He wants to devour every inch of this tableau, to kiss and lick and bite and bring Loki to the edge of madness. It's a fate he soundly deserves. First, he peels off his clothing, working his way free with one hand as he lazily strokes Loki's thighs with the other. He's a little amazed Loki stays still, and when Thor leans over him, pressing his cock into the crease of Loki's ass, he's gratified with a low groan.

Thor follows the path downward again, treating his hands to sleek muscles jumping beneath his skittering fingers as he takes his fill of Loki with hungry, open-mouthed kisses. He sucks bruises into the sides of Loki's hips, licks hot stripes along the knobs of his spine. Loki is in constant, sinuous motion, and making small, unconscious noises.

The endeavor is painfully unfair, as Thor is urgently, achingly hard. But he has made Loki a threat or promise, and whichever this is he intends to take his infuriatingly twisty brother to pieces. He squeezes himself and this of course makes it worse, but the grunt of relief he makes seems to affect Loki, who cants his hips up even farther, looking obscene.

He sounds as enticing as he looks when he says the impossible words, "Thor, _Brother_ , please."

Thor grins and asks, "Can't handle waiting any longer, Little Brother?" He kneads Loki's buttocks, parting and releasing them in turn.

Loki hisses. Hesitates. "I'm..." His voice breaks. He hisses again. "Fuck. I. Am. Fine."

He curls his hands into tight fists, and Thor can hear his teeth clench before he continues. "Do as you will, Thor. I had you squirming for days. How many night's sleep did you lo— _Ohhh_!"

Thor has spread Loki wide and planted his face into Loki's raised ass, swiping his tongue from his sac up along the seam before returning with a much lighter, soft touch right to Loki's hole. Loki collapses from the waist down, and Thor grips his thighs, keeping his legs open and bottom raised in the air as he begins to circle the tight little knot of flesh.

Very slowly.

* * *

Loki is leaking a stream of curses and fluid.

Thor is flush against his ass, darting his tongue into Loki over and over, his mouth wide and beard burning the pale skin red and splotchy. Thor's patience is waning and his jaw aches. He reaches to Loki's prick, hanging heavy and swollen, and strokes gingerly until he can slick his fingers wet. He pushes them into Loki, who moans as they enter him with no resistance. Thor is impressed, too. Loki's hole is more open and giving than he'd realized. And wet. The slide is a silken, gliding rhythm, the sounds indecent as Thor's thick fingers push and pull.   
  
For a few moments Loki stammers and grunts and then his ears and cheeks flush as red as his bitten, scratched ass. "Oh yes, Nnnnhh. No. Nnnnn.... Fuck. _Damn you to Hel_ , Thor. Curse you... Ahhh.... I hope you bite off your own tongue and your cock falls off and your ahhhhhh... Norns, yes  _right fucking there_."

Thor curls his fingers against the softly raised place. "Right here? This?" He stops moving, just a relentless pressure there. "Ask me, Loki."

"I hate you."

Thor beings to pull out his fingers.

"No!"

"Ask me." Fingers plunge back in.

Loki howls. "Fuck me" He huffs. "Fuck me, you loathesome, intolerable lackwit, now before I can draw my knife or so help me I will..."

Thor thrusts in, and Loki goes utterly silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I have ten minutes to post this before it's the weekend, when I usually don't have alone time to write. So, I'm adding aNOTHER-nother chapter after this one. Porn muses, Mama has a LIFE! So stop, pretty please? Let me finish. *weeps with the burden of this filthy mind*
> 
> Also, guess what? NOT EDITED. FML.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And WE. ARE. FINISHED.  
> Please read the updated tags; just in case they aren't your thing.  
> I've edited the last chapter for typos and did have time to read over this one before posting, but I'm sure I've left problems. If you spot any, let me know.  
> Enjoy! xx

Loki's stunned quiet is finally broken by a drawn out, guttural moan.

Thor stills inside him, sunk to the root, and allows Loki a moment. He's wet and ready but the fit is so tight around Thor's girth. When Loki's breathing steadies, Thor pulls outward just enough to move in tiny circles. He's sweating with the effort but he keeps the pace even and slow. His hands are fixed on Loki's hips, where he wants to keep them forever.

At length, Loki pushes back, shouting, "Move, damn you."

Thor digs his hands in with bruising strength and starts to fuck hard, lewd slaps punctuating the beating of his body. He loves watching Loki's slender form jarred by the slamming of his hips, and hearing Loki's sharp gasps sing out his pleasure. Every noise sounds like it's being torn out against his will, and the contrast with the controlled, cultivated way he speaks ramps up Thor's pleasure tenfold. He'd never have lasted long, having been wound up so by Loki's teasing, but now he's dragged toward the limits of his endurance faster than he can believe. He stills again, and when Loki pushes back against him he has to force him still. Loki lets out a needy little whine, and Thor forgets any reason he'd had for slowing down. He plunges back in as deep as he can and lets go, rutting like an animal. His own growls mix with Loki's heavy breaths. Thor's pace quickens; he's given over totally to seeking his peak, and his brutal thrusts draw out louder, deeper moans from Loki's throat. The sounds and the friction bring Thor off and he comes apart with an explosive shout, filling Loki with a hot burst and then spilling wave after wave into the impossibly slick passage. 

Loki is cursing Thor for not seeing to his pleasure first and for crushing Loki under his collapsed weight and for a litany of other grievances but the words are distant white noise to Thor.

He raises up and rolls Loki onto his back then shuts him up with a hungry kiss. Loki reaches for his neglected cock, but Thor traps his hands over his head. He breaks from Loki's mouth only to move the kiss onto his jaw and neck. Thor works his way down quickly, sucking hard on nipples and biting into ribs and pelvic bones. He earns high, urgent moans and then when he pushes Loki's prick aside to nose at his soft black hair, a spurt of fluid into his palm. He licks it off, surprised by its sweetness. 

Loki hisses Thor's name and his cock spits out more slick into Thor's waiting hand. He slides it over the shaft before closing his mouth over the ruddy head, swirling his tongue against the slit and tasting sugar and salt at once. He pulls away, stroking gently as Loki squirms.

"You taste so good, Loki," he says, awed. 

"Mmmm? Show me, then," Loki answers.

Thor dips his head and sucks hard, pulling more of Loki's essence onto his tongue, then moves to Loki's open mouth. He slides his tongue against Loki's and they both grunt into the kiss. 

"Yes," Loki says, either agreeing with Thor's sentiment or speaking from pleasure.

Thor likes the sound of it either way, and loves the shock of desire it gives him. He pumps Loki's cock a few times, marveling at how wet he gets when he's aroused. Loki's mouth is open on a gasp, and Thor shoves his fingers in. Loki closes his lips around them and sucks on his own taste. He hums on Thor's fingers and Thor's cock twitches. He could do this forever and he'll spend as much time as he can feeding Loki his own spending in the future. For now, he wants it himself, and he wants to know if Loki's as sweet as this when he comes.

Thor takes his prick in deep this time, savoring the silky feel of the skin on his lips and the decadence of hollowing his cheeks and sucking with real intent. He follows as Loki's hips start moving, answering the shallow pushes with the wet slide of his lips. Loki moans with every thrust, moving faster and deeper and growing louder until the rhythm goes erratic and he floods Thor's mouth.

There's a bitter edge but he tastes sweeter than Thor imagined and he swallows with a pleased grunt that brings another pulse of come onto his tongue. He holds Loki in his mouth until he softens so he doesn't miss a drop. At last, Loki pulls away and pushes Thor back onto the bed. Thor's eyes are heavy and his whole body is warm and sated. Loki lies down half on top of Thor and licks into his mouth. It's a long, languid kiss. Loki hums again, and Thor falls asleep filled with the taste of Loki and the physical vibrations of his voice.

* * *

 

Thor wakes gradually some hours later. Loki's at the doorway speaking briefly with someone and then Thor hears the door close and Loki returns with a huge platter of food: Pastries, fruits, nuts, and cheeses, and bowls of sweet condiments are piled high.

Loki brings their meal directly to bed. Thor supposes it's a breakfast of sorts though the evening sun is sending a honeyed glow through the window. Loki drops his velvet robe to the floor and the sunlight washes him in warm gold, his wiry-hard frame softened into something tender and sensual.

He pulls back the bedding and Thor is chilled for a moment before Loki crawls in, pulling the covers up to their waists and straddling Thor.

He grins wickedly, and whispers against Thor's lips, "Let me fill you, Brother," before pushing a strawberry dripping with cream into Thor's mouth and chuckling softly at the rumble from Thor's belly and the thickening between his legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't tested this theory, but I assure you I will try if I can... I read many aeons ago about a boy eating only berries for several days for his partner so that his come would taste like raspberries or whatever he was eating. It was so long ago that I've forgotten whether it was fiction or a true story, but this went to live in my subconscious. Then a couple of nights ago, I was on the edge of sleep when I was suddenly wide awake with the idea that my fruit-and-sweets obsessed Loki would taste soooo good. I cursed myself for having Thor already buried in Loki's (physics-defying... I mean he is so skinny how can he even *have* a round plum of a booty like that?) ass in the last chapter. Then I decided to ignore my kink for boys coming on a cock alone and make Thor discover the yummy-come thing on his own. So either you're welcome or I'm sorry as your personal feelings about semen dictate.


End file.
